Monochrome Sky
by Chibi Fenrir
Summary: Her sister is sick... That is all she'll say.
1. Chapter One

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the rights to Love Hina or any of its characters.

Monochrome Sky

The quick dab of the brush on canvas was a subtle motion meant to bring leaves to the bare tree, but, for the onlookers that crowded the painter, it was just one more reason to lean a little closer. Though the eyes that followed his every moment made him feel somewhat uncomfortable, the silence he all but begged them for was all that he needed to get his work done and, with a stroke of the brush to round off the outline of the hill, he was finished.

Keitaro, careful not to bump into anyone, took a few steps back and studied his first real attempt at painting. The landscape he had in his mind was replicated in front of him, but it just didn't look as good as he expected. In fact, it didn't look good at all. The grass looked flat in the sense that it was more two dimensional than three, the lighting was all wrong, and the blues he used for the sky were way darker than he intended.

"Sempai…"

Shinobu's tender voice snapped him out of the lull he fell into and he turned to face the audience he almost forgot he had. Immediately, he felt a lump build in his throat as he looked from the resident cook's half-hearted eagerness to speak up all the way to his study partner's casual indifference.

"Y-Yeah?"

The landlord felt obligated to apologize even though they all came on account of their own volition. It wasn't uncommon for some of the girls to watch him draw every once in the while, but for them to group together was a different monster all together and so was painting. It was a poor showing, and he regretted that his first attempt didn't come out any better.

"It's wonderful!" Shinobu surprised him as she squealed with delight, the genuine sparkle in her eyes more than enough to prove her sincerity. "It looks like something you'd see in a children's book! I love it!"

"No, it don't!" Su jumped up from where she sat and pointed at the painting. "It looks like where Happy lives in Happy's Happy Home!"

"I told you to stop watching that show, Su." Naru peeked over the book she cracked open in the meantime and sighed. "You're too old to watch stuff like that."

"Kitsune still watches it!"

"Yeah, I do! You got something against Happy, Naru!"

"I like Happy, too, but that show…" The brunette hid her face with the textbook as she spoke. "It's for teaching kids how to count and stuff. We're grown women, Kitsune!"

Though he was wary of getting caught up in the argument about Happy the Hippo, Keitaro couldn't help but smile in the midst of the commotion. His art was far from what he wanted it to be, but the company he kept washed away the worry that collected in his heart.

"You watch the show, too, Shinobu!" Kitsune was quick to drag someone else to her side. "Say something! We can't just let Naru slander Happy like that!"

"But… it is a show for babies…"

"They're traitors!" Su righteously proclaimed. "You two can't watch Happy's Happy Home anymore!"

While he was grateful for the antics that warmed his heart, Keitaro knew better than to let himself get caught in their pace. The truth was that he, too, liked Happy, but never to the point of admitting as much in front of other people so, with practiced ease, the landlord quietly slipped out of his own room. As the argument started to peak, he carefully slid his door closed and tiptoed away in search of a better place to reflect on his very first painting.

"Urashima," Keitaro stopped before he could take another step as the only tenant that wasn't in his room called out to him. All it took was a quick glance over his shoulder to match a face with the voice when he saw Motoko peeking at him from around a corner. "Good timing. We need to talk."

"Um…" When she said it like that, it wasn't like he actually had a choice. "Sure." Sparring another word, he rounded the corner to find Motoko in front of the telephone with receiver in hand. He approached slowly, careful to leave a reasonable amount of space between them as the tenant listened to the speaker with undivided attention.

"No, I was—Urashima," Motoko covered the microphone with her hand and turned towards the man beside her. "This won't take-" She sighed before lowering her hand. "Mother, I wasn't saying… I understand. Goodbye." With the conversation finished, the receiver was slammed back on its cradle.

Keitaro winched. "Is something wrong?"

"My mother just called." Her words were curt because she was frustrated, but she was straight to the point because she needed to be blunt. "My sister-"

"Ah! Miss Aoyama!" Keitaro recalled speaking to the woman on occasion. "It's been a while since I heard from-"

The hand that rested on the hilt of her sword twitched and the landlord promptly shut up. "Listen." Motoko grumbled as she leveled a glare at him. "My mother called to let me know that my sister is on her way over here and…" She didn't even know where to begin. "We're not prepared for this."

"It'll be fine, Motoko!" He didn't even know she had a sister, but having family over was a big deal regardless. It was natural for anyone to get worked up when that was the case. "I know I got some touching up to do here and there, but I feel like I did a really good job cleaning up this morning."

Cleanliness was the last thing she was worried about, but she couldn't fault him for the misunderstanding since he never met her older sister. "I appreciate that your first thought is to welcome her here, but that's exactly what we don't want to do."

"Huh?"

"My sister is dangerous." The words were something she left behind as she started walking with the landlord trailing not far behind. "We need to leave."

"That's not right…" Keitaro almost bumped into her thanks to the sudden stop in front of his room, but, thankfully, the collision was avoided on account of Motoko sliding the door open and stepping inside. "If she came all the way here the least we can do is let her in, right?"

Motoko ignored him as entered the room ahead of its owner and addressed the others without a second to waste. "Excuse me." She found the girls seated in front of a painting and waited for their small talk to cease. "I apologize for the interruption, but Tsuruko is coming."

It was like a wet blanket being thrown over a candle, a tiny light smothered by darkness too heavy to shake off. The banter and laughs that forced his disappointment away, the same light-hearted conversation he heard while Motoko was on the phone, were snuffed out.

At first, there was only stunned silence.

No one moved.

Keitaro was slow to look around as his eyebrows started to lift, but, as his eyes ran across their faces, he came to the realization that they all were petrified. Unfiltered terror rendered each and every single one of them speechless. Naru didn't have any witty remark to inject. Kitsune didn't have any joke for the occasion. Shinobu didn't have any shallow attempt to change the subject, and Su…

The princess, free of the spunk he believed she personified, looked so traumatized that he couldn't bear to look at her any longer. She trembled, much the same way Shinobu did, except she clung to the brunette beside her as meaning behind the announcement started to sink in.

"So…" Keitaro cleared his throat, quickly taking the time to lower his sight to the floor. "What's going—Ah!"

The interruption came in the form of the girls scrambling to get to their feet at the same time and nearly knocking the landlord over as they all made for the exit. He narrowly avoided being outright trampled, but the same couldn't be said for the door that was forced aside a little too hard. With a kick, he put his door back on the track, but, when he turned to ask Motoko what was going on, he belatedly realized that she, too, was long gone.

As the sound of Kitsune hitting her room like a cyclone met his ears, Keitaro ventured out of his room in search of Motoko, but instead of heading directly for her room, he thoughtlessly wandered around and watched the frenzy of activity around him.

It was crazy. He never saw them move so fast before, but his ill inspired awe was lost when the girl he forgot he was looking for flew pass him. "Motoko! Wait!" He called out to her before she reached the steps, but ended up chasing after her anyway. "Why are we supposed to be running from your sister?"

The question gave her reason to stop at the top of the stairs and she turned to look down at him as he ascended. It was a ridiculous question that she didn't have time to entertain and the olive eyes that gazed at him said as much. He half expected her to turn on her heel and give him the cold shoulder so he was surprised when she sighed and waited for him to climb the last few steps so they could stand on even ground.

"My sister is… sick." Respect of the model woman that her sister used to be deemed it enough words to describe the person she went on to become. "I know this is shameful, but please believe me when I say it is better for everyone if we just avoid her."

A word she rarely used offset the thought of a lone woman with ambitions of meeting the sister that didn't want to see her. It was stupid of him to think Motoko didn't want to see her sister. If she decided that running away was in their best interest then who was he, someone that didn't even know she had an older sister, to interfere with her decision?

"Okay…"

Her frown curled at a little at the edges thanks to the sentiment he expressed. In her eyes, he still wasn't quite someone she thought of as a friend, but his thoughtfulness prompted her to think better of him.

"Thank you." The small smile that came to grace her features was something that caught him off guard, but the surprises didn't stop there. "Let's go." She reached for and grabbed his hand and, before he knew it, they were on their way to the front door.

"W-Wait…" It'd be a lie to say that he wasn't glad that she was willing to touch him without any intention of harming him for once, but there were still things he had to know. "I don't know if I'm ready to leave just yet…" He could already feel her glare coming before she turned to face him so he continued before she had the chance. "I mean, that's not to say that I won't do it! It's just, uh… shouldn't we all leave together so we can come back together?"

It was the wise thing to do.

There was no telling how long they would be gone, but, at the same time, she couldn't estimate how long it'd take for the other girls to pack or even how much they wanted to take with them in the first place. After thinking about it for a second, though, it was clear to her that it was nothing to think about it.

"We don't have the time to wait on anyone else." Motoko turned to look at him after he stepped off the last stair. "We need-"

"Su! C'mon on!" The same olive green eyes that peered at him became tense as someone yelled loud enough to give them pause. It was Kitsune, the accent alone enough to confirm as much. "We have to get out of here!"

"No!" The princess screamed back, the outright denial the reason the grip the swordswoman had on his hand became lax. According to her, they didn't even have enough time to talk so an argument was the last thing she wanted to hear. "I'm going to stay! I don't want to go anywhere else!"

"We don't have time for this!" Kitsune tried her best to pry Su from wherever she was, the fact that the normally reserved woman was practically screaming every word second only to the realization that Su had no intention of leaving Hinata House. Motoko looked sick, more than just squeamish, as the nature of shouting match started to have an effect on her. "She just said Tsuruko was coming so we can't stay here!"

"Go."

Keitaro stared at their joined hands for a moment before letting go to reach up and adjust his glasses. He smiled at her before turning around and heading in the direction the shouting came from.

"Get the other girls to go with you. I'll get Su, okay?"

Motoko looked at him like he sprouted wings. He was an idiot, but she knew he wasn't a complete fool so she didn't understand how he could underestimate how stubborn Su could be when things weren't going her way. Seeing Keitaro wasn't going to magically uproot her from whatever spot she was held up in so all he did only amounted to resigning himself to staying at Su's side.

No…

It was more than that.

The same man that lacked to nerve to deal with her staring and shyly turned away was subtly telling her to run knowing that they wouldn't be able to get Su to go with them. It was something worthy of respect, something that meant a lot to someone ready to surrender her dignity to make good on her escape.

"Keitaro…" The use of his given name was the reason he found himself making eye contact. "Don't do anything stupid like trip and end up groping her."

"You're saying it like I do that stuff on purpose…"

"Just listen and remember what I'm about to say." Motoko looked up in thought for a second before picking out the most important details to share. It wasn't everything that he needed to know, but it was vital that he understood what she was about to share. "Don't make eye contact with her and, if you can, try not to stay around her too much, either. I'll explain later, but we're short on time."

He slowly nodded, but he was still confused. "I thought you wanted to leave..."

"I do, but I can't leave you two here." The sound of the front door opening and closing caused her shoulders to slump a little, but she was glad that at least someone was able to get away. "It's admirable that you were going to stay for Su's sake, but you can't reason with her when she gets like that. Besides, you're the one I'm really worried about. Tsuruko has a problem with men."

"Kinda the same way you do?" Keitaro immediately backpedaled when the look on her face darkened. "Ah! I didn't mean it like that! I meant… um…"

"I know." Motoko grumbled, an idle hand coming to rest on the hilt of her sword as she stared at the landlord. "I just think you're a spineless, lying pervert half of the time." He winced, but she had no reason to hold back her words on account of his feelings. "But…" She sighed a little because of hindsight. "After being around you for a while, I can honestly say you're not evil."

He wasn't quite sure how to respond. "Thanks?"

"It wasn't a compliment." She was grateful, in a sense, that he wasn't the scum she originally believed him to be, but there was no doubt in her mind that her landlord was an idiot. "Either way, do not agitate her. I can't match my sister, but I'll try my best to cover for you."

"Motoko…"

The sound of someone else leaving reached their ears and the swordswoman couldn't help but grind her teeth. He was right. She should have made everyone leave all together the moment she announced that her sister was coming, but there was nothing to gain from crying over split milk.

"You don't have to thank me." She rubbed her temple with her free hand as she spoke. "Let's both try to talk to Su and pray we still have some time to-"

"Motoko!" Kitsune ran down the hall after seeing them. "I was looking all over for you! Su is-"

"I know…" Motoko murmured. "I know!" She knew that getting angry wouldn't help, but it didn't mean that she wasn't mad. They'd already be gone if she had the sense to grab the girl by the wrist and walk straight out the door, but she wasn't thinking. It was all her fault. If anything happened to anyone it was going to be all her fault! "Just… Just let me think."

"We don't have time to think! We need to go!"

"Didn't you just hear what I said!"

"C-Calm down…" Keitaro swallowed hard before sliding between the girls. "You can leave if you like, Kitsune. We were just about to go and get her anyway," He risked a look at Motoko. "Right?"

Before she had the chance to respond the doorbell rung.

"Aww, damn…" Kitsune cursed, her voice dropping to little more than a whisper as she slumped against the wall and slid all the way down to the floor. "At least Naru and Shinobu were smart enough to get away."

"Ha…" His nervous laugh failed to cut into the tension that descended on them like fog. "It's probably not even her… Maybe someone needs directions or maybe someone forgot they ordered takeout…"

He knew what was coming out of his mouth was just as stupid as it sounded.

No one ever just popped up at Hinata House for something like directions and he knew from experience that the residence was too far away from the heart of the town for food to be delivered. The only people that visited only did so on account of being family so there was no guesswork involved with putting a name to the person that rung the doorbell again.

A single look from Motoko killed any attempt to make good of the situation they found themselves in, but it wasn't her glare that shut him up. As someone that spent most of their time together with a sword angled at his neck, Keitaro felt he had a decent understanding of the tallest tenant's anger. It was easy, ridiculously so, to make Motoko mad enough to draw her blade, but it was first time he ever seen her so angry that she was brought to tears.

Infuriated beyond words, Motoko marched down the steps with watery eyes. The back that slumped upon hearing the doorbell was straightened and the head that was lowered was raised in spite of the tears that started to build. She was extremely angry, but, at the same time, she was hurt. Her mother knew that Tsuruko was sick and all she got amounted to someone stuffing a good luck charm into her hand before pushing her off a cliff.

The swordswoman tried her best to keep her poise, but she moved with no urgency. She couldn't help but drag her feet with every step. She didn't want to open the door. She wanted to run and hide just as much as everyone else did, but she had her pride and nothing would make her give it up.

"Remember what I said, Keitaro." Motoko took a deep breath before she spoke to keep her voice level. "I'll do the talking so… just keep your head down."

"Yeah, I remember."

She jumped, nearly losing her footing and falling down the stairs until the landlord helped her regain her balance via the hand he placed on her shoulder.

"Be c-careful…" He put on a small smile in hopes of escaping the sense of impending doom that started to set in, but it faded when the swordswoman turned to look at him.

"I…" She was sweating, a range of emotions caught in the soft green that stared at him for a few seconds. "I just didn't expect you to be so close…"

He was literally right behind her.

"Sorry. I just felt like this was something you shouldn't do alone." He was surely an idiot and probably a pervert, but, whenever she needed him, he was reliable. "Especially when you're scared."

She meant to say something back, but the sound of the doorbell stilled her lips. Together they reached the bottom of the steps and she picked up her pace to match Keitaro's stride on their way to the front door.

Signaling for him to get behind her, Motoko, once again, took a deep inhale and let it out before opening the front door for her only sister. Tsuruko boldly stepped in, and, just like Motoko told him, Keitaro kept his head bowed so low that he couldn't see anything aside from the floor and his own socks.

"My dear sister…" The voice he heard wasn't at all what he expected. It wasn't so much that he expected her to sound completely crazy, but the silky voice that filled his ears couldn't possibly belong to the same person that terrified the bravest girls he knew. "I've missed you."

She moved, something he wouldn't have known if not for the rustle of clothing… and the sound of something moving across the floor. It was a metallic sound. It reminded him of his childhood, of kids dragging aluminum bats down the sidewalk on their way home, but it wasn't quite scrapping. It was different, a sharper sound that wasn't nearly as annoying.

"I apologize for not coming to see you any sooner. I was quite busy, but I'm here now." The sound stopped so he could only guess that she paused to step out of her shoes. "How have you been, Motoko?"

"I've been… fine." Motoko grumbled out, shutting the door as she spoke.

"Please raise your head, sister." Tsuruko offered. "Come. Welcome me like you used to."

Curiosity was torture on his mind. The sound returned with more emphasis, even more pronounced, as Tsuruko neared her sister and slowed to a stop again.

"We haven't hugged each other in years…" The shape of Motoko's shadow changed as she rose to her full height. "I thought you didn't-"

"Nonsense. You can hug me at any time, Motoko." He was tempted to look because it bothered him. It wasn't that it was annoying. In fact, it didn't annoy him at all. What grated on his nerves was that he was sure that he knew what it was. It just frustrated him that he couldn't think to recall something that sounded so familiar. "You know how that woman is… I only said that to save face in front of her."

"Okay…"

The landlord paid no attention to their embrace and didn't bother to listen to the small talk that followed. His imagination oiled the gears in his mind and they turned, proverbial cogs working together as he started to piece together the puzzle he couldn't see.

Metal…

"I hate to talk business so suddenly, but…" She sighed the same way Motoko did. "I trust that you haven't forgotten what you were supposed to do in the event I took ownership of the dojo again."

A familiar metal…

"So…" Motoko's shadow retreated, the steps she took backwards pulling her whole shadow back into his sight. If that was the reason then it wouldn't just be a simple visit. "That's what this is about…?"

He was sure he knew what…

It dawned on him in an instant and, before he knew it, Keitaro found himself staring at a sword almost longer than its wielder. Brown eyes ran up the length of the blade and across the hilt, up the arm that held it, up the pale neck of its owner, and, ultimately, the face that belonged to the woman with murder in her eyes.

Tsuruko flicked her wrist.

His glasses fell to the ground in two separate pieces and splinters and bits of wood flew into the air like she smashed the panels that lined the floor with a sledgehammer. Before blood had time to flow from the shallow cut above his eyebrow, before he could even blink, Keitaro dodged the blade that would have pierced his eye socket by shifting his head to the side.

It was only after the assault, after the slash and thrust that nearly killed him two times over, that his heart started to beat again. It was only after he was certain that her sword wasn't coming at him again that he felt his body taking in the oxygen he denied it on account of needing to invest every ounce of his being in survival.

Keitaro slowly raised his head to look at the white and red blobs in front of him, but he couldn't focus. The adrenalin wore off. His body hurt. The muscles he strained to throw himself backwards started to ache, and his heart started to beat so hard that it hurt. Though he lived, he was reduced to sweaty mess on the floor. He could barely breath and the bare concept of moving again was enough to make his stomach churn.

He was at the mercy of the sword that was held above his head.

"T-Tsuruko!" Motoko all but dived between them and shielded her landlord by confronting the sister she feared. "What are you doing!"

"I won't allow it." Tsuruko stated her truth like it was universal, like it was something that Motoko was supposed to accept just as much as she did. "I won't allow you to make the same mistakes I made…" The sword that was raised at Keitaro was lowered in the presence of her sister. "Men are evil, Motoko. I won't let you fall into their clutches… I won't fail you. I won't allow you to get married."

The reason, the motive, behind what would have been a homicide was revealed. In an effort to protect the only person she still thought of as family, in an attempt to keep her only sister safe, she acted with without any regard for the consequences of her actions.

"That's suppose to make it okay…?"

"Keitaro!" Motoko looked over her shoulder at the rising form of her landlord with the intention of making him back down before things really got out of hand, but one glance was enough to confirm that it was too late.

A thin line of crimson trailed down his face, but he ignored it as he stood on knees that were supposed to be shaking. He was supposed to be scared, but he wasn't. He was supposed to be running away with his tail between his legs, but, for the first time in recent memory, he was angry.

He was pissed.

"You almost killed me for a reason like that?"

Keitaro walked passed Motoko without any hesitation, and neared Tsuruko without any fear in the depths of his eyes. The glob of color that made up her face gradually cleared with every step. It was still blurry when he came to a halt in front of her, but, even without his glasses, he could tell that she was beautiful.

She didn't look like an older version of Motoko, or even anything remotely similar. It wasn't difficult to tell they were sisters on account of a passing resemblance he noticed in the mother and daughters, but they all radiated with a different kind of beauty.

Motoko was a flame akin to her passion. There were times when she felt like a wildfire, like an ocean of fire that spread as far as it wanted, and there were times when she was nothing more than a candlelight, a flickering bit of heat that needed help to do bigger things. It all depended on her mood. How she felt dictated the things she said and the things that she did. It was like that for everyone, but, in Mokoto's case, her sense of pride and unabashed honesty made it so the things she said were always in line with her thoughts. Though he could never outright tell her in fear of feeling embarrassed or having a sword at his throat, Motoko would always be something like a beacon when he needed an honest opinion.

It was just one of the many reasons she would always be beautiful to him.

Her sister, on the other hand, was completely different…

Motoko was real. If she was grumpy, then the annoyed grimace she had on her face wasn't something she wore. It was how she really felt. If she was happy then she'd smile and laugh just like anyone else. He wasn't usually privy to the sight of her smile, but he imagined it'd look a little like the one Tsuruko wore as they made eye contact.

A mix of blood and sweat started to get in his eye, but he didn't blink even though it stun. He merely looked at the woman in front of him and waited. He waited to see if she had anything to say, if she had any reasonable explanation for what occurred even though there wasn't any kind of justification he would settle for considering his life was almost ended.

Long seconds passed and minutes seemed to tick by, but the only thing she gave him was a light smile, a carefully crafted present, for entering her personal space.

"You…"

Keitaro didn't think of himself as a fortunate person.

He was grateful for the friends and family he had and he was happy that he could consider himself satisfied with the way things went, but, deep down, he always felt like a clumsy loser that didn't really deserve to be in the presence of all the wonderful people in his life. He was a two-bit artist, a failure of a student, and a liar to the people that cared about him the most.

He was pitiful, but she…

"You are a monster…"

The strained eyes that never matched her smile warmed before she chuckled. The sword that embodied her soul was dropped as she broke into a hearty laugh. Hilarious! It was hilarious! "You're seriously saying that to me without looking into a mirror?" Her calm, the lid that covered the kind of person she became in the shadows, shifted and a little of her true self was exposed as she blatantly laughed in his face. "I _might_ be monster, but _you_!" The swordswoman threw her head back and laughed out loud before being able to get out what she wanted to say. "_You_!" She pointed at him as tears built in the corner of her eyes. "You are _surely_ one!"

The words that normally would have shocked him into silence did nothing of the sort. An accusation was nothing compared to her actions. Keitaro and Motoko silently watched Tsuruko ride her amusement until it died, but neither thought to speak.

Tsuruko, though, was more than happy to share. "That was good…" Even though she abandoned her sword, she was perfectly capable of handling a mutt without it. He gave her a good laugh, but, at the very least, she needed to punish him for being so cheeky.

Her fist didn't move any faster than her blade.

"Keitaro!"

But he was too tired to dodge…

Continued…

Author's note: Man, it's been a minute. I've been sort of busy and I'm trying to finish stuff before I start posting again, but I eventually realized that I don't really have the time to finish everything the way I wanted so I'm satisfied with just putting up what I have.

Once again, thanks for reading everyone and I wish everyone happy holidays.

CF


	2. Chapter Two

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the rights to Love Hina or any of its characters.

Monochrome Sky

"Uh…"

It was a terrible dream.

Keitaro rolled onto his stomach and tried his best to get back to sleep. Unfortunately, It was useless. He was always a light sleeper so just waking up for a minute or two was enough to ensure his rest wouldn't come no matter how long he kept his eyes closed.

The dull pain in his lower jaw didn't help much, either.

"So… that really happened."

"Yes, it did." The darkness of his room replied, but, oddly, he wasn't scared or even startled before he realized who answered him.

"Motoko…" Sluggish eyes took long to adjust to the darkness, but he could feel her presence at his side. "I'm sorry I didn't listen to you."

She sighed.

"What…?"

"Don't apologize. She was just waiting for you to do something first…" The dark blob of a person on his side automatically made him reach for his glasses until he remembered he didn't have them anymore. "If anyone should apologize, it should be me. I wasn't thinking so… when she moved I just… froze. I couldn't even move when I saw her attacking you. I… I…"

"Don't worry about it."

"Don't worry about it!" Motoko was appalled because worried was exactly what she was. "I do worry about it!" Before a tear even dared to escape, she hastily swiped at her eyes with the back of her arm on the off chance that one did. "I thought she was going to kill you and I just stood there! Instead of saving you, I kept thinking about how much everyone was going to blame me. I kept thinking about how people would look at me at your funeral…"

Motoko hushed her voice to a whisper, but everything she said felt like it was screamed into his ear. She said it in a round-about way, but she was scared for him. Under usual circumstances, touching her would be a surefire way to lose his hand, but he had to make sure that she understood that everything was fine.

The hand he reached into the dark knocked into her leg at first, but, with some fumbling, his hand eventually settled on top of the one she let rest on her knee. "I'm alright. Really. I've been cut and hit harder than this before. I'm gonna be okay."

"I know…"

Her voice, something that was already lowered to a whisper, made her sound even smaller.

"I k-know…"

She literally shook, the weakness evident by her trembling something she exposed on account of feeling completely at fault. There were plenty of times she accused him of being a pervert and there were surely times he annoyed her to the point of provocation, but there was never any malice behind the blade she pointed at him.

That wasn't the reason he was able to avoid Tsuruko's sword, though.

Just because he was often on the business end of Motoko's techniques didn't give him the nerves to move like that when his life was on the line. It was just a reaction, a fluke. When the hair on the back of his neck stood straight and the gleam of the blade was engraved in his eyes, he stopped thinking.

Self-defense…

Keitaro quickly sat up and killed the thought before it materialized, but, as he turned towards the tenant at his side, a strip of white dangled into his vision. Surprised, he motioned to touch it, but his savoir was quick to slap his hand away and wrap it back around his forehead.

"Oh, the cut…"

"Let me know if it's too tight." After she was sure the gauze wouldn't unravel, Motoko returned her hands to her lap. "I never had to bandage anyone else before so…"

"It's fine." Keitaro stretched a little and took in the soothing ache that followed. "Um, thanks for this, Motoko."

"You're welcome." Her hands balled into fists. "I'm… sorry that you got hurt."

The man that never got hurt was injured and the girl that never apologized mumbled words she never gave him before. It was awkward not because it was a new experience, but simply because they never thought of each other as friends.

Their relationship never passed the point of being strictly professional. He was her landlord and she was his tenant. If something came up that was in line with his job as the landlord, he did it. If he asked her to do something that didn't conflict with her schedule, she didn't mind providing a helping hand as long as it was a reasonable request. They didn't need to go out and have fun with each other and meaningful conversation didn't do much for people that barely talked to each other.

He hated that he didn't try to do more to connect with Motoko and, in the resulting silence, forced himself to say something, anything even, to get her to accept that everything was going to be okay.

"I'm not mad or any-"

"I've never seen you get angry like-"

They spoke in tandem, but said different things. Motoko quieted down and dropped her sight to the floor. "Ha…" The landlord laughed a little, if only to counter the odd feeling welling up inside of him. "Don't worry about it." He spoke quickly, hopes of cheering her up the cause of his rambling. "I'm just surprised… that you did this much for me."

Motoko helped him plenty of times before. There was a time when she piled tasks on him in an effort to make him buckle and break under the workload, but, once things smoothed out between them, there were more times than he could remember when she helped him haul some panels up to the roof or helped him repair stuff around the dormitory. Still, it always seemed like she was forcing herself.

"I thought you didn't like me all that much to be honest…"

"N-No!" The swordswoman recoiled, the impact that followed what he said in passing apparent as she leaned forward again to refute the claim. "I didn't have a high of opinion of you at first, but you're… decent."

"Haha," His laughter soothed her and calmed them both. "I can live with decent, I suppose."

While she was happy that he was still in high sprits, there was something she desperately wanted to know. "That said, how…"

"…did I avoid her sword?" He knew the question was going to come up eventually. "It's hard to explain, but I felt it. It was like a premonition or something… After I looked at her sword, I kinda felt what was going to happen so I just moved out of the way."

A chill rattled down his body as he recalled the flash of a future that was a centimeter and a half away. If he was a split second slower, or if he didn't managed to pull his head back far enough, the razor sharp edge of her blade would have waltzed down his face in an elegant stroke that would have stolen half his sight and left him with a particularly nasty scar. The attack that followed was easier to dodge on account of just being a simple thrust, but the intention was there all the same.

"Now that I think about it… I guess she really wasn't trying to kill me." He raised his hand in the darkness and held it in front of his face. The palm sized blur blended into the darkness, only a little more visible than the girl beside him. "I guess she just wanted to wound me… Is it something bad about looking at women in your school, Motoko?"

"No…" Motoko was sure it was her fault. Tsuruko didn't randomly go around blinding men so it definitely had something to do with his proximity to her, but it was already enough that she couldn't protect him. Letting him know she was the prime reason would only serve to compound the guilt. "Tsuruko just doesn't like men. Ever since her hus—Never mind… I have to leave."

"Wait, Motoko…" A glimpse at the window she looked towards was enough to see why she had to go. Even though it was still somewhat dark, he didn't need his glasses to tell that the night sky was gone. It was early dawn, and it was time for her daily practice. "She's mar—No…" He thought to ask something that mystified him, but the glimpse of morning blue between his blinds was enough to give rise to a better question. "You stayed with me the whole night…?"

A red and white blob stopped at his doorway.

"I'm sorry you got hurt, Keitaro…"

Then she was gone.

He told her not to worry about it, but it was obvious that it bothered her more than it bothered him. It was… touching, but he didn't want her to force herself to do anything.

The Motoko he knew would _probably_ give him some bandages so he could dress himself, but she wouldn't think to actually do it herself. The Motoko he knew wouldn't even think to step inside of his room.

Keitaro rolled out of his futon and sighed. He didn't know how to talk anyone out of a guilt trip, but, if she didn't want to listen, then he could show her that everything was okay. After a good, long shower, he'd get himself ready to make breakfast and show her that everything was perfectly fine.

Before that, though, he had to remember which draw he left his pair of backup glasses in.

0

"Four hundred and six."

The sun started to peek over the horizon and framed the swordswoman that brought her blade down with enough force to silence the singing birds around her. With the squawking gone, she felt like she could finally hear herself think, but her thoughts did little to relieve the burn that built in her shoulders.

"Four hundred and six."

Motoko bit on her lip to stifle the backtalk that nearly flowed freely from her mouth, and, once more, she raised her sword high above her head. In a fraction of a second, she brought it down like lightning. It was a killing blow. All of them were. It was a basic slash that was the backbone of countless skills in their school. If she attacked with all her might, then nothing stood a chance.

"Four hundred and six."

It was a mistake, a grievous one, to even entertain the idea that she was exhausted simply because the realization alone was enough to make the sword she held feel just that much heavier. She wouldn't drop it. Her grip was solid enough to make her knuckles lose their color, but her arms trembled too much… The same sword she could swing around like an extension of her arm felt like it suddenly became a telephone pole.

The tip of her sword started to dip.

It felt too heavy.

She was tired.

She was giving up…

With all the remaining strength she could muster, Motoko heaved her sword back up. The sweat that covered her glistened under the morning sun, and her shoulders felt like they burned more than fire. It felt like every single inch of her body screamed in agony when she sliced through the air, but she did it. She didn't give up.

"Four hundred and six."

Her temper flared. She knew for a fact that she had already done more than a thousand swings! A thousand! Her usual practice didn't consist of much. On a good day, three or four hundred was as far as she went.

"Four hundred and six."

Motoko channeled her all her anger into lifting it back up and bringing it down.

"Four hundred and six."

Some of her ire started to spill over…

"Four hundred and six."

What was she doing wrong! Everything was by the book! Was her stance a little too wide? Did she lose focus? Were her hips a bit too low? Did she need to step into the blow?

"Four hundred and six."

If there was something she was messing up, she wished Tsuruko would just tell her…

"Four hundred and six."

If she heard that number one more time in that monotone, bored sounding voice…

"Four hundred and six."

All caution was abandoned as Motoko slowly turned towards Tsuruko. Crazy thoughts danced hand and hand in her mind. She wasn't quitting. Nope. Motoko Aoyama didn't quit. She was just going to make Tsuruko make her stop. In fact, while she was at it, she would make her apologize to Keitaro and then…

"That's it…" Tsuruko abruptly broke into a smile and clapped loud enough to snap Motoko out of her daze. "That was the same intensity you had when you defended that man."

It felt like her arms turned into pudding. Her sword started to slip from her hands so she stabbed it into the roof and leaned on it to keep from falling flat on her face, but, as tired as she was, just holding onto it proved to be too much.

Motoko collapsed and sprawled out on the rooftop. Staying upright and making sure her head stayed above her heart? Taking time out to put her breathing techniques into practice? All the lessons learned from hard days in the dojo could be damned for all she cared. She was dead tired, so much so that she was willing and ready for unconsciousness to claim her.

Tsuruko took her time stepping over to the heap that was Motoko and graciously provided her with some shade to rest in. She bent at the waist just enough to put her head in the way her sister's view of the sky. "I'm not mad if that's what you're thinking." That was exactly what she thought. "I'm actually impressed that you struck me. The spot where you hit me with your scabbard bruised pretty well. See?" The elder sister pulled her sleeve back to reveal her forearm and the light blue that blemished her flawless skin. "Unfortunately, I do have to tell you that I'm not happy that you did it for his sake."

It really felt like she was about to pass out. Talking was beyond her. She wanted to say something, but she still needed a few minutes to recover enough to sit up and regain control of her breathing.

"Nonsense." Tsuruko could draw her sentiments from the look on her face. "I still need to punish him for daring to be so close to you. He's special…" She licked her lips, the savory thought of the landlord presenting a challenge one that thrilled her more than she cared to realize. "I can tell that much, but-"

"Don't… hurt him."

The minute she used to clear her head and push herself up into a sitting position wasn't enough to make her feel anything close to better. Her heart felt like it beat a thousand times a second and her arms still shook, but she still managed to sit up.

"Oh, Motoko…" The unyielding instructor that worked her passed complete exhaustion was a mask that was discarded without a moment's regret. Tsuruko kneeled to get closer to her sister with concern engraved in every facet of her face. "You don't understand yet. Men are evil. They don't care about us. Those… monsters only seek to use us like we are tools of their satisfaction, like we're only here for their pleasure and their labor, but I won't allow it." The older balled her hands into fist and looked directly at her sister with fire in her eyes. "I'll save you. I swear with all that I am that I won't let any man taint you."

It was a pledge, an oath dyed in hate filled delusions and bad experiences, that Tsuruko didn't need to make, but what bothered Motoko even more was her sincerity. Her older sister completely believed that men as a whole only sought to defile them in each and every way possible. It was sad that, in hindsight, it was same thinking she subscribed to except to a much higher degree. She, too, once believed men were scum, but only on account of lust and, even then, she only reserved her loathing for grown men.

Tsuruko outright hated all of them. She had no problem with telling little boys to shut up, teenagers ran like hell from the promise of serious injury, and men in general could likely forfeit their lives for even the smallest mistake in her presence.

The thing about it, though, was that Tsuruko did not know Keitaro. The only man outside the family that she ever spent any significant time with was the same one that gave birth to such madness.

"Toshio was just one man." The brief rest she needed worked wonders. Her back and arms still ached, but she could focus on what she needed to say. "I know he hurt you, Tsuruko. I know and I hate him for it, too, but he was just one man… not all of them."

Tsuruko slowly backed away from her sister in mute shock. She stood, wobbly and unable to get her bearings as Motoko blankly stared at her. "Why…?" Her older sister's pained expression felt like an icy stake stabbed into her back. "Why can't you understand, Motoko!" Panic crept into the voice that used to always be level. "Are… Are you like _them_!"

She knew who _they_ were.

When Tsuruko first declared her one-woman crusade, their parents opposed her vehemently. Their mother, a painfully blunt woman, wasted no time explaining that generalizing would ultimately ruin her life and only aid her in becoming a bitter, lonely woman till the end of her days. Their father tried to say something as well, but was cut off by Tsuruko, the once again successor of Shinmei-ryu, quietly disowning and disrespecting them in the same instance. It was a memory burned into her mind and branded there, something she wouldn't forget as long as she lived.

"No…" Motoko forced the memory aside, but drew what she needed from it to get to her feet. She wasn't like their parents because she didn't talk down to her sister. "I'm not like them." Empowered by finding that they could still reach common ground, she continued. "They get stubborn sometimes and don't think to listen, but I will. Let's talk about this Tsuruko…"

After her divorce, Tsuruko changed for the worse. The joy that always made the day that much brighter was lost to the rage that whittled away at the woman that she used to be. Instead of the kindness that made friends out of people that could or even would have been enemies, she met people with complete indifference. The same sister that would have picked up a box of kittens on the way home and delivered them to a shelter was not the same woman that recklessly shoved all her friends away and disowned the only family she had ever known.

Still…

The woman Motoko was disgusted with was none other than herself.

As she gazed upon the sad form of the sister that she once respected more than any other, she belatedly realized that all the pent up resentment came as a result of her own selfishness. Every time her sister, her only sister, came to see her she had a reason for her absence or simply ran away, and, if she couldn't do either, she sulked and got angry that her crazy sister was interfering with her life.

Excuses…

Tsuruko was too scary, she always bothered her friends, she was too dangerous, she disappointed their parents so much, she was too much trouble to deal with, and…

Helping her was too complicated.

As the morning sun rained its glory on the pair of sisters on the rooftop, Motoko tore herself away from memories of making plans to avoid her sister and decided, for the very first time, to make just as much of an effort to save Tsuruko as her older sister mistakenly invested to save her.

It didn't matter if it meant taking out a part-time job to pay for therapy or if it meant she'd eventually be disowned just like their parents. It didn't matter what happened. Tsuruko needed help and she was going to help her.

"There's nothing to talk about…" Tsuruko recovered from her shock and regained her composure. "I'm sorry for doubting you, but you just won't be able to get it, Motoko." She sighed as she shook her head. "You won't be able to understand until you see what they really are so you have to trust me." The mark on her arm was a sign that she didn't. "You have to believe in me, that's all."

"I believe in you, Tsuruko… I just think you need to let go of your hate."

"Hate!" Insulted, the older sister stepped forward to deny the absurdity. "_This_!" Resolve sparkled in her eyes as she unsheathed her blade and let it bathe in sunlight. "_This_ is righteousness!"

She should have known better than to try to address the real problem so suddenly. Instead of touching on the heart of the madness, she was forced away by the armor of madness Tsuruko encased herself in whenever her mission was questioned.

"Meet _evil_, cut _evil_! Meet _men_, cut _men_!" Her sister laughed, but nothing was funny. "Hate? This is our _justice_, Motoko!"

It was just that she didn't expect her to sound so passionate. It caught her off guard. "But…"

"I'm certain your landlord will be trying his best to avoid me." With renewed vigor, the same woman that feared that her sister sided with men wasted no time issuing a proclamation on par with a threat. "Be sure to tell him that I will most certainly be taking one of his eyes or-"

"You will do nothing of the sort…" Motoko squeezed her eyes closed as she pushed her luck once more. Bringing up her ex-husband was one thing, but getting in the way of her cause was something completely different.

"You surprised me last time." Tsuruko sounded pleased, but her sister knew her well enough to tell that it only meant she was getting angry. "We don't have any techniques in our school that uses the scab-"

"Keitaro is kind to me." It was a revelation that gave her the second breath she needed and reminded her of the oath she made to herself. If she had to cross swords with Tsuruko to keep her from hurting the landlord again, then it was a decision that was already made.

Though she was tired, Motoko straightened her back and locked eyes with her sister as she continued. "He isn't like Toshio. He isn't anything like him!" Keitaro was an idiot and he was goofy, but he always meant well. "If he was with me then I know he wouldn't cheat on me! I know he would love me for the person I am instead of the things I could do!"

Ambitions were murdered by what was insinuated and dismay ruthlessly cut down the excitement that always put a peculiar gleam in Tsuruko's eyes. "You…" She almost choked on the words. "You are… fond of him?"

"I didn't say that." Keitaro was nice, but they had little, if any, romantic interest in each other. "I used to think men were pathetic, too, but he's… different."

"I can tell." Tsuruko was relieved, but the things Motoko said in defense of her landlord still took the wind out of her sails. "Hear this, sister." The sword she had long since lowered was sheathed and she turned away from her sister to admire the early morning sky. "That man is dangerous. It would be best for you not to visit him at night…"

"You don't know Keitaro, Tsuruko."

"And I don't want to know him." The older sister sighed as a breeze flowed over them. "Go and soak in the hot springs. I will prepare a good breakfast for you."

The sudden subject change meant the conversation was finished and that practice was finally over. She was dismissed, but Motoko stayed right where she was and looked at the woman in front of her. Tsuruko stood before her like a sculpture, but the back that was turned to her, the same back that used to look like it could bear any burden, looked incredibly lonely.

"Tsuruko…"

She reached out to her.

"Yes?"

A treasured memory of the both of them covered in pancake mix came to mind and she refused to let it go. Tsuruko changed, but she was still the same sister that she shared so many experiences with. They had their differences, things that would definitely be settled with time, but, if she was seriously going to try and help her sister, then sooner was always better than later.

"Let's make breakfast together."

Continued…

Author's note: Ha, I'm grateful that I can make a timely update for once. I'll try to see if I can mess with some of my other stories shortly, too. Like always, thanks for reading everyone.


	3. Chapter Three

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the rights to Love Hina or any of its characters.

Monochrome Sky

Cooking was something he once believed to be beyond him, but it was all thanks to the efforts of Shinobu that he had the confidence to stand in front of a stove. As someone that was much too clumsy to make himself busy in the kitchen, the concept of preparing food for others was something that dared to overwhelm him on account of nearly burning the whole place down on more than a few occasions.

Tiny flames licked the bottom of the skillet as the landlord turned down the dial and looked down at the scrambled eggs. They were perfect. The fluffy, peppered yellow that sizzled as he lifted the skillet up and away from the stove was enough to make him smile in both relief and admiration.

It was the makings of a western breakfast.

After a few steps taken in the opposite direction, he carefully spooned the eggs onto the plates around the table before heading back to the stove to check on the pan sausages. The skillet was rinsed and deposited into the sink on his way, and, as the last pieces of toast popped up from the toaster, Keitaro fought the temptation to pinch himself.

The scrambled eggs came out just right, he already flipped the sausages once, the toast wasn't burned, the table was set, and he even remembered to fill a pitcher with orange juice. He was grateful. When he asked for Shinobu's help, all he wanted was to make some quick snacks, but the resident chef took it as an opportunity to teach him stuff that would last a lifetime.

Though making a decent breakfast wouldn't put him in line for a lifetime achievement award, it did serve to make him just as happy as he hoped it made the friends he prepared to serve.

Picking the tongs back off the paper towel he left it on, he flipped the sausages over once more and turned off the heat. They were done and browned really well. While he wasn't one to normally think about garnishes considering he rarely got the basic things right, taking in the grand sight of the meal he made all by himself was enough to understand why Shinobu always wanted things to be perfect down to the finest detail.

If it was well received, then, even though he couldn't vouch that his fish and miso soup would match Shinobu's, he wouldn't mind trying his hand at a normal breakfast. He actually would have tried making it if he didn't always burn the rice.

"Keitaro…?"

"Good morn—Ah!" The landlord glanced up for a second before immediately looking back down to make sure the sausage fell onto the plate instead of the table. It landed right beside the eggs like it was supposed to. He lucked out. No mistakes. "Ha…" Oddly embarrassed that she caught him trying to arrange the food on the plates to his liking, his cheeks turned a light shade of pink as he met the princess with a smile. "Good morning, Su!"

"Good morning…" The platinum blonde looked around and made sure to scan her surroundings before approaching the kitchen table.

"Is…" His cheer dimmed when he realized that she was looking at him instead of the food on the table. "Is something wrong, Su?"

"No, not really…" She sounded subdued, and looked the part. He was so used to her flying kicks to start off the morning that it didn't feel like the day started without one. "What happened to your head?"

"Oh!" He forgot about the bandage and reached up to touch it. "I t-tripped on the steps!"

"I see…"

"Um…" It was rare to see Su in such a mood so he didn't really know what to say. "I made some breakfast for everyone. I though you'd be extra hungry so-"

"Is she gone?"

The landlord pushed his backup glasses back up to the bridge of his nose and sighed. There was no way he could fake his enthusiasm when the most cheerful person he knew looked so down. "She's still here, Su." He hated the way she bowed her head like they were doomed. "It's alright, though! I'm here." He looked down at the five plates set on the table. "Motoko and Kitsune are here, too."

"I don't like Tsuruko, Keitaro." Su moved a little closer before wrapping her arms around his frame and burying her head in his stomach. "I don't like her at all…" Though muffled because of the shirt she pressed her face in, her words came through remarkably clear.

"Su…"

There was never a time since he took up the job that Su laid hands on him without the intention of trying a new wrestling move. She had fun pulling moves on him out of the blue and, even though there was rarely a time when it didn't hurt, he often had fun trying to wiggle out of her submissions. Su, unlike any of the other girls, was like a little sister that always tried to spend time with him so the impact of her hug spoke volumes to him because it wasn't what it seemed.

In a way, it was her using him as shelter from the storm he knew that was Tsuruko.

"Come on…" He softly patted her on the back to calm her down. "Let's go and get Kit-"

"Su!" Both of them froze in place as the pair of sisters entered the kitchen, but it was on account of hearing a familiar voice that Su clutched onto Keitaro like she was about to be dragged away.

"I didn't know you were here!" Tsuruko happily rushed into the room to greet the girl that she missed yesterday. "Su?" The princess didn't turn around or let go of the landlord so the senior swordswoman looked up at the man she tried her best to ignore. "Mister Urashima…"

"Misses Aoyama…"

"I can see that you made breakfast." She was offended, extremely so, but she knew better than to raise her sword when one of her friends was literally holding on to him. "Rather commendable of you."

"Thank you." Killing intent flowed freely, but he was in too good a mood to let her bring him down. "Did your practice fare well?"

His tallest tenant nodded from where she stood behind her sister. She didn't have anything to fear. Keitaro would be fine as long as Su was there. "It was-"

"I would ask that you don't make any further inquiries into what _we_ do with _our_ time." Tsuruko raised a hand to stop her sister from talking. "That said…" She licked her lips. "Would you be so kind as to let go of Su?"

Motoko's breath caught in her throat.

If he let go of Su or, rather, if she let go of him, the situation would immediately go from bad to worse.

It was bad that they even encountered Keitaro at all. She stayed in the hot springs as long as she could because she knew he was hungry. The last thing he had to eat was the lunch Shinobu made yesterday. Knowing as much, she fully expected him to sneak into the kitchen, grab some stuff out of the cabinet, and then make himself scarce, but it was apparent, from the very moment the scent of a hot breakfast met her nose, that she forgot Keitaro was someone that didn't have an abundance of common sense.

"I think…"

The younger sister held her breath. Even as someone that regularly thought to punish the landlord for his mishaps, she worried about his altruistic streak. He wouldn't think twice about prying Su away from him if he stopped to realize the only reason Tsuruko didn't draw on him was because of the princess.

"I think she's fine where she is."

Motoko exhaled, her sigh made out of the same relief that made her thank her lucky stars. Satisfied that her sister and landlord wouldn't have another violent confrontation, she settled her eyes on the breakfast laid out before them. At first, she wasn't so keen on the idea because of the problems it presented, but, with Su's presence, she didn't have to worry anymore. She never had any of Keitaro's cooking—she doubted that any of the girls did—but, if it tasted as good as it smelled and looked, then it was bound to be a meal to remember.

"I see." Tsuruko, too, shifted her eyes in direction of the kitchen table as she spoke. "I do thank you for the meal you made for us, but…" The older sister paused and took a moment to look at Su. The girl made no attempt to welcome her. "I'm afraid we can't partake." She raised her arm, the bruised one, and pointed at the breakfast that made Motoko's mouth water. "Please dispose of it, sister. I'll make us a real breakfast."

"Wha…" The swordswoman that stood in the background was forced into the limelight. "Uh…" Tsuruko patiently waited on her to act, the blank look on her face enough to tell how serious she was. "I…" Keitaro stared at her from the other side of the room, shocked as she stepped away from her sister and, unconsciously, towards the table.

She didn't mean to make him think that she would ever do something like that to him! More than just looking or possibly tasting delicious, the breakfast Keitaro made for them was a gift. She knew, because of how early she woke up, how hard he tried to better his culinary efforts.

Every other morning, Keitaro would be in the kitchen when she was on the roof. He always messed up. If he didn't overcook rice, then he burnt bread. If he didn't forget to use flour, then he forgot to add seasoning. If he didn't use too much oil, then the meat was raw on the inside. Her practice consisted of forms perfected over the course of time. His practice was a carousel of trial and error that he rode long enough to make something wonderful.

What Tsuruko asked her to do was worse than throwing away treasure.

"I…" Motoko hated being in the spotlight and drowned in the attention her landlord and sister focused on her. She froze, unable to move lest she give one or the other reason to think about something she didn't mean to do.

It was about a minute into the standstill when Su walked over to the kitchen table and took a seat. Taking the chopsticks in hand, she muttered her thanks for the meal and, in abject silence, started to eat.

"S-Su!" Tsuruko was the first to recover. It was her worry that forced her to dart to the table and grab the tiny wrist she reached for. "Wait!" No one in her right mind would consume a man's cooking. "Don't!" She was beyond relieved that she didn't take a bite. "I'll make you something to eat." Disgust registered on her face as she looked down at the plates laid about the table. "I promise it'd be better than… _that_."

"I want to eat Keitaro's breakfast!" Su struggled, but even she couldn't break out of Tsuruko's iron grip. "He made it for me so I'm going to eat!"

"I'm saying I'll make you a proper breakfast!" The senior swordswoman turned towards the sister at her side. "Motoko, quickly! Throw it away!"

"No…" It was something she should have said from the beginning, but it took a show of Su's defiance for her own to appear. Motoko took the last few steps to the table and pulled back a chair to take a seat. "I'll eat his breakfast as well, Tsuruko."

"Oh…" Tsuruko numbly released her hold on Su. "I… see…" To someone that felt like the captain of the only vessel that sailed, the pain in her heart couldn't be anything other than mutiny. Stunned, she dropped into the seat beside the princess and resigned herself to silence.

Even though they clearly had their differences, Keitaro never liked to see anyone sad so he risked igniting the temper that had faded. "I'll move my stuff out of the way if you still want to make something…"

Tsuruko ignored him, the closest thing he received to a response coming in the form of the plate she pushed away from her.

"It's good, Keitaro!" Su, oblivious to the older woman's suffering, put on a grand smile as she slammed the empty glass down on the table. "It's perfect!"

"You did well, Keitaro." Motoko eyed her sister as she ate, but she had no problem at all with complementing the food as she watched. "I'll have to tell the others about this."

"T-Thanks." He was so used to hearing the opposite that it made him embarrassed to hear otherwise. "I hope Kitsune likes it."

"Mitsune is here, too?"

Tsuruko looked towards the doorway before turning towards her sister for the answer.

"Kitsune left last night." Motoko poked around with her food. "She didn't have time to-"

"So I can have her plate!"

"Kitsune didn't have the time to see you since she had to leave." Motoko caught the look Keitaro gave her as he took his seat, but she was relieved he made no attempt to ask about it. "She left—Yeah…" The swordswoman sighed. She couldn't just ignore Su when she put on the hungry puppy face. "You can take the plate, Su. Anyway." She turned her attention back to the landlord. "She had to leave in the middle of the night."

"Oh…" Tsuruko looked excited at the prospect of seeing another one of the girls so everyone, even Su, noted the disappointment that made her deflate.

Seated in front of food that disgusted her, her presence was diminished. Instead of the monster that had no regard for anything, she looked like a deer caught in headlights. He, too, didn't know that Kitsune was already gone, but he did know why she left. He knew why all of them left so he honestly felt sorry for her.

"Ah…" Su rubbed her stomach before patting it. She was full. "Thanks for the breakfast, Keitaro. Let's go play."

"Ha, I have to finish eating, Su. I have to clean up, too, so it might be a while until I'm free." Keitaro took a sip from his orange juice and put the glass down. "Maybe after I'm done, okay?"

"It's a promise then." The princess scooted the chair back and hopped out of it. "Don't forget!"

Su waved before taking her leave and then she was gone. Keitaro cleared his throat with intentions of making some conversation to go along with the food, but, in the presence of the sisters, he couldn't think of any shared interest.

In time, Motoko, like Su, finished her breakfast without leaving even a crumb behind. "Thank you for the breakfast, Keitaro." She rose from her seat and collected her plate in addition to the ones Su left in her wake. "Shinobu would be proud of you."

"Thanks, Motoko." The praise was something big enough to draw out another smile even in the midst of gloom on the other side of the table. "Hmm…" His sight came to rest on the plate Tsuruko pushed aside. "If you were still hungry then…" He trailed off as he shifted his eyes a little to side and noticed the way senior swordsman looked at him.

"No thank you, I had enough." Motoko carefully placed the plates in the sink and put the chopsticks in the trash on her way back to the table. "I think you should definitely cook more often, though. That was deli-"

"You don't have to watch me anymore, Motoko." Her voice was rich with distain, her glare practically unblinking as she focused it on the landlord. "I want to have a talk with Mister Urashima. Leave us."

It was true that she was trying to make sure her sister didn't harm Keitaro, but it wasn't like she was babysitting her older sister. "It's not like that, Tsuruko. I-"

"Trust me."

"Tsuruko…"

It was difficult situation. She swore on her honor that she'd protect Keitaro, but helping her sister recover was just as important. If she wasn't in the room, then she had no means of keeping him safe, but, if she truly meant to help her sister get better, then trust was at a premium.

Keitaro made the choice for her.

"If you want to talk then I'll listen." The full extent of her glare felt like a laser, a beam of condensed hatred that landed on him like a crosshair, but he didn't waver. He took the last few bites of his toast and finished off his breakfast. "Can you go and play with Su a little? I still got to fix the floor and start on my chores after this."

"S-Sure…"

She didn't expect him to welcome the danger than that came with dealing with Tsuruko on his own, but she couldn't just stay when both of them gave her reason to leave. Like Su before her, Motoko motioned to leave, but she stopped at the doorway. She paused for a few seconds, just long enough to spy the pair over her shoulder, before she walked away and, for the first time, left them alone with each other.

Tsuruko waited for her sister to leave before she thought to speak. "Why did you think to fix a plate for me?"

"I thought you two would be hungry after training all morning so-"

"No," She studied him as she interrupted him and they locked eyes with one another. "Tell me why you thought doing something for me was a good idea."

"I made a mistake…" After seeing how she approached Su, he knew for a fact that she wasn't the monster he thought she was. "I just wanted to apologize." Keitaro bowed his head low enough to prove his sincerity. "I'm sorry I for saying all that and getting in your face."

It fascinated her that he thought to offer an explanation and apology to someone that already laid hands on him. The hard look in her eyes softened, but she kept all the curiosity that arose with the things Motoko said about him. "You're a little on the slow side, but you're strong-willed, aren't you? You're sensitive, perhaps exceedingly so, but, you're rigid when you need to be. Not bad. Could be worse."

Keitaro was completely confused. He made breakfast hoping he'd get the chance to say he was sorry about what happened and he did, but she didn't make mention of his effort or even acknowledge it at all. More than that, he didn't understand the point she was trying to make.

"I suppose that's why my sister likes you and, if Su is any indication, so do the other girls." Tsuruko lowered her sight to the plate in front of her. Looking at his food was the reason she lost her appetite in the first place. "You see, I thought taking one of your eyes or fingers would suffice as a punishment for being too close to my sister, but I underestimated you. This might sound a little rash, but I think it's best if you leave this place. Now."

He raised his head slowly, disbelief marking his features as he stared at woman that meant to throw him out. "You're joking…"

"I don't joke."

"I can't just pick up and leave…"

"I thought as much." Tsuruko slid her seat back before standing, but he was surprised when she didn't motion to draw her sword. "You were right to call me a monster, Mister Urashima." He hated the way she said his name. "I will make you come to regret your decision in time."

"Miss Aoyama," He caught her reaction the first time and addressed her properly. "I don't know why you're so angry, but-"

"Anger stems from immaturity." She interrupted him again to right his misunderstanding. Men didn't have the ability to make her angry. It'd be like getting mad at pigs for being nasty. It was just a matter of putting them in their place, but she couldn't deny that she occasionally got excited at the prospect of breaking a tough hog before putting it in the pen and the landlord presented a challenged unlike any other. "As much as I would like for you to serve as an example to all that seek to take my sister's hand in marriage, I-"

"But I don't even want to marry Motoko…"

"I want to bring my sister and her friends to their senses." She continued on like he didn't say anything at all. "Until I do, it would be bad if something unfortunate happened to you."

"I don't believe that."

"Oh?"

Without any hesitation at all, Keitaro stood to face her. "You're not trying to protect anyone." You didn't protect people by going around trying to make people homeless or blind their landlords. "You're just making excuses for yourself." The thought was alarming, but he couldn't deny what his gut told him. "I… I think you like doing this."

"So you really are the kind of person that speaks freely…" She smiled because of his accusation. "It's refreshing. I've intimidated every man I've encountered, but you…" She looked at the bandage around his forehead. "You are certainly special."

She was a master of her art and wielded a sword meant to strike at the heart of evil without quarter. To have a simpleton avoid her blade would tarnish not only her name, but also a fighting style that spanned countless generations. That was why she accepted that he was more than an average fool, but she would find out his secret in time. First things came first, though. The important thing was that she weeded him out before he hurt the flowers that were his tenants. After they realized that men were the enemy, after he was out on the street, she'd be able to truly test him.

"Also, please don't rush." It wouldn't do to have him try to upset her, but it ultimately didn't matter because everything he said was amusing. "I want to take my time with this."

Tsuruko got under his skin like no one else ever did before, and the worst part was that it was over nothing. She hated him enough to draw her sword, enough to put him out of the only home he had, and she didn't even know him for more twenty-four hours. If he had did something to earn her complete loathing, then he could have tolerated it. He tolerated it when his parents kicked him out. He tolerated it when he failed. He tolerated things because they were his fault, but she was starting to get on his last nerve.

"Do whatever you want…" Callousness entered his voice and cold eyes met the woman he once thought to welcome into Hinata House. "I don't care."

"That's it. That's how we are supposed to talk to each other." Making breakfast for her? Apologies? Tsuruko didn't want anything like that. There wasn't supposed to be any kindness, only the look he gave her as she wet her lips with her tongue. All she wanted from him was the realization that she was a threat and that she would always be one. She wanted him to know that she was his enemy. "Wait…" She took hold of the plate on the table in front of her seat and dumped the contents on the floor. The wet, greasy smack of the sausage and the rest of the food hitting the floor paled in comparison to the act itself. "This is how we are supposed to treat each other."

It would be pretentious to call it a war because it wasn't anything close. No one was going to die. It wasn't even going to be a fight, but there was a declaration. She would ruin him. She would ruin him before he had the chance to ruin any woman, but she wanted him to try and do his worst. It wouldn't be fair otherwise.

"You're crazy."

Motoko was wrong.

Her sister wasn't sick. Sick people needed help to get better. Tsuruko didn't need help because she indulged herself in her madness and, from his point of view, loved it. She wasn't sick at all. She wanted to be the way she was and had no problem with crowning herself the enemy of men.

She walked away laughing because she had nothing to say in her defense. If he wanted to think she was crazy, then he was more than welcome to believe as much. In fact, she wanted him to think she was insane.

"Good night, Mister Urashima… and good luck."

Continued…

Author's note: My bad everyone. Could have sworn I put this up last week.


End file.
